Over and Over
by shattered petal
Summary: It was one kiss; seven seconds. Yet those seven seconds had sealed everything between them. -HitsuMatsu


**Title**: Over and Over  
**Genres**: Romance/Drama  
**Rating**: T (shall change to M)  
**Couple**: Tōshirō/Rangiku

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**author's note**: I hope you all enjoy the first chapter. Just to say that Tōshirō has aged in this story, so he appears older and, consequently, is taller as well. Feedback is always appreciated. Thanks!

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Over and Over  
**Chapter 1.**

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'Why _are_ they celebrating?'

'Living up to the age of seven-hundred is relatively impressive. I'm sure Shunsui would love to see you at his party.' Ukitake offered a warm smile at Tōshirō, who refused to return it. Parties were not Tōshirō's speciality. He would much rather spend time at home working, or studying even. Parties were boring.

'Captain Hitsugaya,' he corrected the older male. 'Well, I won't be attending. Tell him I send my well wishes anyway.'

Ukitake sighed, a little disappointed. 'It would be _lovely_ if you came, though. Everyone is bringing a partner with them. There _will_ be dancing after all! Maybe you and Rangiku should come together?'

That was a suggestion which didn't settle well with Tōshirō. 'No, thanks.'

'Oh, okay.' Ukitake shrugged. There was only so much he could do. 'Just know that you're invited.' As if Tōshirō needed further convincing, Ukitake tapped the invitation letter on his desk. 'Everyone is, and you're equally as important as I for attending.'

'_Thank you_,' Tōshirō said sternly, making it clear he was growing impatient.

Used to Tōshirō's rather harsh behaviour, Ukitake simply smiled and resisted the urge to offer him a couple of sweets. After all, sweets cheered up everyone, even the grumpiest. 'Very well, then, Captain Hitsugaya. I'll see you at the party then!'

'No, you won't.' However, Tōshirō's insistence was fruitless. Ukitake had already left, a glee in his step.

Tōshirō knew Ukitake was just being kind. No doubt the party would be better without him being there, looking miserable and acting anti-social. Plus, Rangiku, for the record, would have a better time too. Leaning back in his chair, Tōshirō grabbed the letter, read the first few lines, scowled and scrunched it up.

No, he wasn't going.

Unlike he, however, Rangiku was _more_ than keen to attend. The party was in four days, and she was already fussing over what dress to wear. Tōshirō was the least impressed when she decided _he_ choose for her. Running a hand through his hair, Tōshirō reluctantly watched Rangiku lay out five dresses for him to pick.

'You know, I _adored_ the cute flowers on this one,' she said, lifting a light pink, fitted dress which flowed at the hips. Small, white flowers were scattered around. 'But it's not Summer, and I thought it was more of a Summery dress.'

'Does it matter? You'll be inside anyway.'

'Captain, I have to look appropriate for the occasion!' Rangiku pouted, but quickly got over his lack of enthusiasm. 'Well, how about this one then?' She pressed a blue dress to her, and this one had a similar shape to the previous, except it was a little shorter, and there were sleeves. '... It is a bit conservative, I admit––'

'I like it.'

Rangiku knew better than to believe him. 'You can't just _like_ it, Captain. You need to _love_ it.'

'Fine! I love it,' Tōshirō shrugged.

'No, you don't. You're just saying that.'

Tōshirō slumped his shoulders in defeat when she grabbed another dress. This one was black, a little sparkly, the hems of the dress see-through. Tōshirō cocked a brow, and propped himself on one elbow. 'I love it.'

'Captain!'

'Just pick any dress. You look nice in any dress, all right?' Frustrated, he snatched his documents of paperwork. 'I have more important things to attend to, so go in whatever.'

Rangiku frowned, then smiled slowly. 'I look nice in any dress, do I?'

'Sure.'

'Aww, Captain, that's so sweet!'

At that, Tōshirō realised what he had implied: that he thought she was pretty whatever she wore. Growling in irritation, he looked at her. 'What? It's no big deal. Just wear that dress for all I care. No one will notice.'

For Tōshirō, that was quite the compliment. 'I'd prefer it if you came with me, Captain.'

'Well, that's not happening. I had Captain Ukitake insisting I come along too, but the party will be better without me.'

Rangiku's face fell. 'I'd like it if you were there, though.'

'I have things to do.'

'Yeah? Like what? You're _always_ working. How much work can you do in four days? Just come along to the party, Captain. I _promise_ I won't force you to do anything.'

The only person who would beg him to come to a party with her, was Rangiku. Any other woman would rather he locked himself away. Tōshirō was rude and cruel, and threw harsh comments left and right. Not to mention he tended to get very quiet and unsociable. There was nothing necessarily likeable about Captain Hitsugaya.

Maybe he should feel flattered Rangiku was so enthusiastic. Because here she was, clinging onto a beautiful dress which would look fantastic on her, wishing he would escort her to the party with him. Many men would _kill_ to be in his position. For some reason, that left a strange, poisonous sensation in the pit of his stomach.

'I'll think about it.'

'Think fast! Because if you're coming, we have to find you a nice suit to wear.'

'I have one!'

'That one's _boring_. You've had it for ages. It's not nice, anyway.'

'_You_ bought it!'

'I don't look back, Captain. My taste in fashion has changed.'

Tōshirō was about to glare at her, but instead he simply sighed and gave in. 'Wear that dress.' That was all. Taking hold of his pen, he began to write away. If Rangiku didn't want to wear the dress, then fine, but out of the five she laid out, the black one was the nicest.

A tad uncertain, Rangiku studied the dress she was holding, 'Okay. This one. Thank you, Captain.'

'When you're done fussing about, Matsumoto, I want you to file away these reports. I found them lodged away in the filing cabinet from years ago. I guess I didn't see them; they're not organised, so handle it.'

Rangiku rolled her eyes and pulled a face. 'Do I have––?'

'Yes.'

She whined slightly, and took the folder he handed to her.

'Have them done by tonight, after my meeting.'

'Fiiine.'

'And don't pout.'

Rangiku was given permission to return the unwanted dresses, and to take the chosen dress back to her apartment. Upon returning to the office, Tōshirō had already gone to the meeting, so she was left with the file he gave her. Wondering why it had been shoved aside all those years ago, Rangiku briefly skimmed through the papers, and scribbled her signature where it was required. It was odd that no one had said anything about these reports not being handed in. Something was odd here.

After reaching the last section, Rangiku suddenly realised what was wrong. She only had to read past the third paragraph. These events had occurred years ago, and it was a period in which she wanted to close a door on. At first, she thought there had been a mistake, and Tōshirō wanted her to file away different reports, not this one.

Then she wondered if this was a sick prank of his. If he was doing this as some sort of punishment. Because each sheet was covered on Gin Ichimaru, an ex Captain and Shinigami, who had passed away years back. They were details on what he had done, and his death. Uncertain how to feel, Rangiku quickly searched for where her signature was needed, and she angrily wrote it in, stabbing the paper accidentally.

It was anger she felt, at first, but she needed to know why Tōshirō had handed her these reports. Was it an accident? Did he not mean to show her all of this? Or did he expect her to be over it all by now? Was he _that_ insensitive? Surely he knew her well enough that what happened had happened, and she had no desire to return to it. Slamming the folder onto his desk, she returned to her seat and tried to remain calm. Explanations would be offered later.

However, it was like a trigger. It was as if the door was tightly locked in her mind, and now everything was spilling out. There was so much she wasn't able to coordinate it all. She wasn't sure how to react or respond, and was close to simply leaving until she felt her Captain's spiritual pressure nearing the room. As soon as he appeared at the door, Rangiku's anger suddenly melted into sadness.

Did she honestly feel betrayed?

Glancing at the folder on his desk, he nodded. 'Good work. I have something else for you to do as well.'

'Was it deliberate, Captain?' For now, Rangiku was able to control her voice and tone. Calm and soft. She didn't want him to know how she felt.

Confused, Tōshirō looked at her. 'Was what deliberate?'

'The reports you handed me. They were from ten years ago.'

Tōshirō narrowed his brows. 'What?'

'Ten––' No, she couldn't remain calm for long. 'Captain, they were from_ ten years ago_!' Impatient, she approached the folder and showed him one of the papers. 'Didn't you know?' She asked when he took the sheet. 'Did it not occur to you...?'

'No. Shush.' Tōshirō should have realised! How foolish. There was a reason he kept this file hush-hush. 'Well, at least it's done now.' Tōshirō returned the sheet of paper. 'Don't worry.'

Rangiku raised her brows, surprised. '"Don't worry"?' What was she trying to accomplish? Tōshirō didn't understand, and simply refused to. He couldn't _relate_.

_He doesn't want to_.

Tōshirō looked down at her, and frowned again. 'Matsumoto, it's over.'

Of course he didn't mean it the way she thought he did. He meant the filing was over, she didn't need to do this again. However, she took it the wrong way completely, and she instantly knew. 'It may be over for you, but it isn't for me. How insensitive can you get?!'

'Matsumoto––'

'No. No, forget it, Captain.' Rangiku clenched a fist. 'It doesn't matter.'

It did. It mattered. A lot. It _mattered_.

'I came to you for advice on what dress to pick, and you can't be bothered to help me. Then you can't check these documents first to figure out _why_ they haven't been filed? You then tell me to _get over it_?'

'No!' Tōshirō exclaimed, and that was when he realised how much he hated lying. 'All right, maybe I did, but don't take it the wrong way.'

It was a lot for Tōshirō to admit fault, and if she wasn't so angry and frustrated, she would have praised him for that. 'Do you even care? Maybe it doesn't bother you at all, but my past still affects me, and I'm trying so hard to "get over it".'

'Matsumoto––'

'No, please don't talk. You just admitted you said that, and I think that just sums up how you feel about me. I thought you were my friend.'

'I––' Tōshirō raised a brow. 'Really?'

Once, she might have teased him for acting so _blank_. Now, though, she wasn't in any mood for jokes. 'Thanks.' It had been a very long time since she felt this way; _a_ _very long_ _time_. 'Thank you.'

He absolutely _hated it_ when Rangiku was angry with him. She didn't really frighten him, but her anger always had him stumped and feeling guilty. She was the only person who could make him feel that way. When she was about to leave, he caught her arm and shoved her to face him properly again. 'Oi, snap out of it! I didn't _mean_ to do any of this! You're talking nonsense–– as usual!'

'Nice, Captain. That's really _nice_.'

'Stop it! I didn't know, all right? I didn't know!'

Then, the sadness returned. Of _course_ he didn't know. Of _course_ he wouldn't mock her, or spite her out of some twisted pleasure. Tōshirō was a sincere man, and while he was odd at showing it, he did care about her a lot. She needed to stop jumping to conclusions so quickly, to stop distorting who he truly was, and realise he _did_ care. That he _was_ her friend.

And, really, he was the only friend she trusted wholeheartedly right now.

To lose him would be unbearable.

Rangiku claimed his haori and embraced him, pressing her face to his chest. Tōshirō was relieved she hadn't stormed off, he was relieved he managed to catch her before she went. However, he wasn't expecting her to hug him. He was expecting, at least, another harsh scolding from her, or a cruel accusation. He was expecting something from her that she would never offer. Rangiku was too warm and kind for that. She wouldn't want to hurt him.

'I'm sorry.'

'It's okay.'

'––I just can't stop thinking about him sometimes.'

He froze, frowned, then realised who she was referring to. A wave of disappointment washed through him, but he wasn't disappointed in _her_. He was disappointed in himself. Because as soon as she said that, all he could feel was a horrible envy. An anger, a sharp, sudden rage that he wasn't able to shrug off. She missed Gin.

Because no one compared to that _bastard_.

'I'm sorry,' she repeated, raising her head to look at him. Tōshirō wished he hadn't seen her wipe away the tear trickling down her cheek.

'It doesn't matter. It's fine.'

'Well, at least the files are done. You wanted me to do something else, Captain?'

She was trying to smile, trying to forget again, and he hated the sight. For once, he wanted Rangiku to just break away in front of him, to just let everything spill. He wouldn't mind, he wouldn't press it against her. Surely it was normal to grieve, right?

So, why was she _hiding_ all the time?

Tōshirō's kiss was soft.

Everything stilled, even his own heart.

Rangiku needed a moment to realise what he was doing, what _she_ was doing, and after seven seconds, she reacted. Gently, but with enough force, she pushed him off her. Then, effortlessly, everything came back to Tōshirō. What he had done, and why he had done it.

And how she responded.

A horrible silence fluttered between them, and her lips tingled from his touch. It took a moment, but when words came to her, Tōshirō had already gone. He had fled, leaving her shuddering.


End file.
